“Don’t sound so surprised,” Decker said. “I never thought that DNA hit was any kind of smoking gun, but like I said, I’m looking for your friend. If nothing else, maybe Joe can point me in the direction of other locals who might have known her.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Lindsay was about to hang up, unsure what else to say, when Decker asked another question. “Oh hey, I was thinking about taking my dad on a fishing trip the next time he visits. Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, I guess. For us it was more about the experience than actually learning how to fish.”

“But did you catch anything?”

“A seven-pound blackfish, in fact.” Granted, it was some teenager on the boat who actually caught it, but close enough.

He let out a whistle. “Which shop did you use?”

She pursed her lips, trying to remember. “Hope found it on Yelp. It had some kind of pun in the name.”

“Reel Deal Fishing?” Decker asked.

“That sounds right.”

Decker thanked her for the recommendation and assured her again that he was going to reach out to Joe the bartender. At last it seemed that the detective might finally be taking her concerns seriously. But as she hung up, Lindsay found herself remembering that horrible Sunday afternoon two Novembers before. She and Scott were eating burgers and drinking bloodies at J.G. Melon when Scott’s cell buzzed on the table, the word Mom appearing at the top of the screen. Scott’s dad, in the city for an engineering conference at the Grand Hyatt, was in an ambulance headed to Lenox Hill. A heart attack.

The nurse at the front desk assured them there was no Ned Parker in the computer. Annoyed at the request that she double-check, she began listing all the other hospitals in Manhattan, insisting that Scott and Lindsay were in the wrong place. Lindsay was the one to suggest that they probably beat the ambulance to the hospital and would wait a few minutes, if that was okay.

When the nurse found them in the waiting room to confirm that Scott’s father had in fact just arrived, she seemed like a different person. Her voice was low and kind. Her face even seemed softer somehow. “The doctors will be ready to see you in a little while.”

Lindsay said nothing, but she’d taken Scott’s hand in hers, knowing that he would soon learn that his father was gone. And now Lindsay realized that the shift in Detective Decker’s attitude wasn’t necessarily a good sign.

21
Tuesday, June 22, 1:08 p.m.

Carter Decker pushed the keyboard away in frustration and cracked his knuckles.